


Hey Pretty

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: During Canon, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-30
Updated: 2006-09-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 06:50:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8701696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Sam finds a new way to rock Dean's world.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

**Title:** Hey Pretty  
**Author:** merepersiflage  
**Pairings:** Sam/Dean  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Category:** PWP  
**Word Count:** 2100  
**Summary:** Sam finds a new way to rock Dean’s world.  
**Warnings:** incest, graphic m/m sex, language  
**Disclaimer:** Not only did I borrow someone else’s characters, I disclaim any knowledge of what may or may not be for sale at Kmart.  
  
  
  
Dean popped back into the aisle he’d left Sam waiting. “They don’t have what I need here. You wanna finish up while I check next door?”  
  
“What the hell do you need? It’s shampoo, man.”  
  
“It’s not just shampoo. And don’t forget we’re almost out of lube.”   
  
It was beyond even the basic wrongness of their entire fucked up existence that Dean’s careless mention of lube in the middle of Kmart should make his dick leap. Jesus.   
  
But before he could think of anything to say, Dean had disappeared around the end of the aisle, leaving Sam to wander down among the “Family Planning” stock.   
  
There were almost as many choices as in the goddamned cereal aisle, and in just as bright packaging.   
  
He grabbed the KY, and his eyes fell on a bright pinky-purple box. His lips twisted in a smile as he tossed it in the cart.   
  
As soon as they were back in the hotel, Dean took his drugstore bag into the bathroom. Whatever _product_ Dean had been searching for must have been some kind of hair emergency.   
  
Sam dug through his own bags and found the bright box. He opened it and eyed the little thing dubiously. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. And then he thought about how much fun they’d had on the washing machine and on the bed with the coin box and decided to give it a try.   
  
He stroked himself, the memory of those two times more than enough to get him hard. He rolled down the condom and then the clear plastic ring. It was snug, not enough to make his eyes water, but tight enough that he wasn’t sure he could come with it on. His thumb flicked the tab on the little cylinder and the vibrations almost made him drop to his knees. He couldn’t push the tab back in fast enough. He tucked himself in his shorts as best he could and strolled over to the bathroom door.   
  
Dean’s hands were working through his hair, leaving a ridiculous peak in the middle.   
  
“Dude, you spend way too much time on your hair, and that looks stupid.”   
  
“Yeah, well at least I wash my hair.”  
  
“I wash my hair.”  
  
Dean gave him his annoying fucking yeah-right eyebrows and went back to pulling on his hair in the mirror.   
  
“What’s next? Are you going to shave the sides and dye it orange?”  
  
“You gonna start braiding yours?”  
  
Sam closed the distance between them until his ready-to-go dick was pressed right up against his brother’s ass.   
  
“Sam, I’m—”  
  
Sam kept him from turning away from the sink. He picked up the bottle on the counter.   
  
“I forgot the lube. Think we could use this?”  
  
“Not at that price.”  
  
“You waste good money to look like that?”  
  
“Not as much as we waste on lube so I can plow you and you don’t scream like a bitch.”  
  
“Nice try.” Sam slid his hand around Dean’s waist, slipped up under his shirt to tease the skin of his belly. “But not today. If I’m screaming, it’ll be because I’m plowing you.”  
  
“Sam.”  
  
But he could hear that the protest was only half-sincere and once he turned that little vibrator on again, there wouldn’t be anymore protesting.   
  
“You spend all that time in the mirror. I think we should watch you get fucked in it.”   
  
“Now, you’re being an asshole and—”  
  
Sam shoved him hard against the sink, arm tightening around his waist. If Dean wanted to throw him off, he would, but not before one of them got hurt fighting in this tiny bathroom. Dean went still underneath him.   
  
“So you had your Wheaties this morning. Why does that mean you get to shove me around?”  
  
“Because you’re going to like it.”  
  
“I’m going to like kicking your ass.”   
  
Sam slid his hand down lower, rubbing the front of Dean’s jeans. “You say that now, but—”  
  
Dean grabbed his wrist, twisted and slipped around to face him. He twisted his arm again, and Sam was fighting the force pushing him down to his knees.   
  
He felt a little sweat start around his hairline. “Are you going to break my arm?”  
  
"No.” Dean let go.   
  
Sam flexed his wrist but it didn’t hurt. “You know, Dean, you don’t have to twist my arm to get me to blow you.”  
  
Dean’s breath left him on such a rush Sam could see his chest hollow with it, and then that yeah-right eyebrow went up again.   
  
“So why aren’t you down there already?”   
  
Sam contented himself with the knowledge that Dean’s cocky grin was only going to last until Sam introduced him to their new toy. He knelt and popped the fly on his brother’s jeans. Yeah, it was going to be fun to watch that grin disappear. In fact, the mirror over the dresser ought to do just fine.   
  
Dean’s fingers threaded through his hair, cradling the back of his spine as he slipped him free of his shorts and wet his lips against the head of his dick. He let it rub there, tongue, lips, and cock until Dean’s fingers tightened and he opened his mouth.   
  
“Yeah.” And there was gravel in Dean’s voice.   
  
He went at him like ice cream on a hot day, swirls and sucks and long strokes, catching every drip. He ran the underside of his tongue over the slit, then flicked it back. Dean’s thighs started to shake. Sam bobbed over the head with a quick wet in and out until he heard Dean’s hands clunk onto the sink behind him, his ring chiming loud in the small space.   
  
He pulled off and ran the tip across his lips again.   
  
“C’mon, Sam. Do it.”   
  
The command, uttered in that deep hoarse voice had him remembering how tight that thin little ring of plastic was. He moaned.   
  
“Bed. Now.”   
  
Dean ripped off his shirt and tossed it in the tub, kicked his jeans away as he stepped toward the door.   
  
Sam followed and the pressure on his dick as he stood was just too much. He peeled down his boxers and grabbed Dean as he passed the dresser. “Fuck bed. Here.”  
  
He spun him around and pulled the tab. Dean jerked against him.   
  
“Holy shit.”   
  
Sam watched the surprise turn to pleasure on his brother’s face.   
  
“Jeez, Sammy, I didn’t know you came with batteries.”   
  
“Yeah, well, they only go for about twenty minutes so spread’em.”  
  
“Sam . . .”   
  
“Are you going to tell me you don’t want to feel that inside?”  
  
Dean’s jaw tightened then relaxed. “No.”  
  
“No, you don’t want it?”  
  
“Fuck you, Sam.”  
  
“Wrong answer again.”  
  
Dean braced his hands on the dresser top and met Sam’s gaze in the mirror. He shifted his legs apart. “Fine.”  
  
Sam pressed up against him, the buzzing running right to the marrow of his bones. Dean bit his lip and arched into him.   
  
Sam’s nose twitched as Dean’s head rocked back. “What is this in your hair?”  
  
He slid a hand up.   
  
“Well, it ain’t lube, Sammy boy, and the clock is ticking.”  
  
Sam eyed the bag on the table a few feet away. He was afraid that if he moved away, Dean would figure out a way to change his plans.   
  
He stretched and snagged the bag with the tip of a finger. He bent his knees and shifted until his dick slid between Dean’s thighs, the head resting against his balls.   
  
“Son of a fucking bitch.” Dean’s voice was as thick as smoke.   
  
Sam considered for a minute. The vibration radiating along him was a good hum in his balls, but direct contact might be—“Too much?” he asked.   
  
“No, fuck. But hurry.” Dean’s teeth were bared.   
  
Sam kept Dean planted with one hand while he worked to slick his fingers and himself with the other. Thank god for snap tops. Clearly the people in family planning product development were doing some field research.   
  
“Hurry.” Dean ground the word through his teeth.   
  
Sam couldn’t take his eyes from the mirror as he worked his finger in. Dean’s jaw relaxed as his body opened around his finger. His eyes fluttered, his face flushed, color pouring down his throat in a _v_. His hips rocked back, and Sam tipped forward, his cock pressing into Dean’s balls as he slid another finger into that pressure and heat. He scissored them, felt the muscles convulse and fucked him until he was sliding easily.   
  
“Now, Sam. Damn it. I want . . .”  
  
He was there, his dick just waiting, and they were buying another of these things tomorrow because he had to know how it felt because when the tip of his vibrating dick pressed forward, Dean’s whole spine rolled like he’d become a snake. The muscles along his back shivered, and his eyes popped open.   
  
Surprise, wonder and holy god—the heat in that focused jade stare.  
  
He slid all the way home, Dean arching back to meet him. They barely needed any friction, the tiny ring powering them both into gasps and shudders.   
  
Dean’s mouth opened, his tongue sliding out between those thick lips. “Holy shit.”  
  
“Tell me.”  
  
“Fucking everywhere. Feel it everywhere. Jesus. I can feel it all the way along my dick.” Dean’s lids dropped over his eyes. “Move, c’mon, want to feel . . .”  
  
Sam straightened his legs and stroked. He didn’t know Dean’s voice could shake like that.   
  
“Want to feel you there, Sammy.”   
  
His hips started to thrust and any doubts Sam had about coming in that ring were disappearing in that incredible heat and friction. Dean was chewing on his lip now. Sam knew it was to keep in another cry, and he wanted to hear it, wanted to kiss it out of that swelling mouth. He had to fight to keep his eyes open as he fought back the tingle rising in his balls.   
  
Dean had a white-knuckled grip on the far edge of the dresser. Sam slid his hand around his hips.   
  
“No.” A plea as rough as a curse. “Please.”  
  
Sam braced his feet and fucked harder, he couldn’t feel it, not with all that shaking, but he knew he had it when Dean hung his head and snapped his hips with him.   
  
“Fucking bastard.” His voice was crumbling almost as fast as Sam’s self control.   
  
“Dean. C’mon.” He tried to keep the angle and from the violent snap of Dean’s body he knew he must be there.   
  
“But—oh fuck. Now. Jesus. Now. I’ve gotta—”  
  
Sam would have sighed with relief, but he needed every bit of concentration to get his hand moving on his brother’s dick with some kind of rhythm, his hand at last working on some kind of instinct, and he prayed it would be enough because his balls were screaming in protest, and he had to let go or die.   
  
The first splash of Dean’s come against his skin flung him into supernova. He came so hard he figured he pretty much emptied any potential for the next generation of Winchesters, before his legs gave out and he was falling into Dean, out of Dean, and he almost cried before his shaking hand could find that suddenly way too tiny tab and shut the damn thing off.   
  
“Dude.” Dean’s voice was his own again, just was a little extra breath in between the words. “Where did you get that ‘cause we need to go get a dozen more.”  
  
Sam looked up at him from his sprawl on the floor. “Kmart.”  
  
“Seriously?”   
  
Half an hour later they were back in the same aisle.   
  
“Well, go Kmart.” Dean had four of the pink boxes under his arm and he was reaching for a bright green one. He chortled and held it up. “This is what you need, Mr. Blink and You’ll Miss It.”  
  
Sam’s eyes tracked the lettering on the box his brother was waving in his face, _Play longer: Desensitizing lotion for men._ He elbowed his brother in the ribs, watching his ridiculous fauxhawk flop as he jack-knifed to absorb the blow. “Just wait until you have that thing on your dick and we’ll see who needs that kind of help.”  
  
“Bring it on, dude.”  
  
  
  
**Author’s Note:** Shall I or would it be too repetitive?   
 


End file.
